Darkness of Souls
by Luiniliel
Summary: Decidedly AU account of the Deaths of James and Lily Potter.PoV James, maybe OoC
1. James

I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K. Rowling, I justtry to play with it.

* * *

Ever since I was young I've had these visions. Sometimes, most of the time, they come out true. 

My mum says I must be a seer.

When I was still young she took me to a friend she had to get evaluated. Mum wanted to know if I should get trained earlier than just wait until I attended Hogwarts.

It wasn't until I was older that my mum and dad showed me the results of the tests I took. They revealed essentially nothing.

That was why my mum dropped the subject long ago.

I almost feel bad about failing the tests on purpose, but I felt I had a good reason for telling no one, absolutely no one about it.

Besides, I'm not a genuine seer; I can only foretell what will happen to me and those emotionally close to me.

It wasn't until I went to Hogwarts that someone found out. He was me best mate though, and I could feel that I could trust him with my life, and that of my family's.

Sirius Black learned that I was a seer on his own.

He said that whenever I was having a vision my eyes turned this pale blue color, and then I would blink, and my eyes would return to normal.

He cornered me one day and forced me to tell him. Really glad I did though, it was such a burden on my soul.

Plus it made our lives a heck of a lot easier. Despite the fact that we did on occasion get caught for our pranks there were at least 5 pranks we got off on to the 1 we got caught on.

Pranks were such good training for the war that was brewing.

I would never tell them that though. I knew that they would be frightened, and then I knew that they would be angry, for different reasons. Sirius was so ashamed of his family. Remus was so angry at what he thought was his fate. Peter… poor Peter, its best I not say anything, makes me regret all that I've done.

I knew it was a little bit of darkness I swallowed that day when I decided to befriend Peter.

But that darkness was evened out by the light of my Lily. Of course she hated me. I forced her to it. I knew that the only way I could get her to love me so unconditionally was to push her to a level where she hated me so unconditionally. There really is a thin line between love and hate, and I manipulated her into crossing it.

But the light of my Lily was put out by the darkest ties of our combined destiny.

After we married and she became pregnant I would want to spend all night just staring at her sleeping figure and memorizing her face, etching it into my soul.

Even if I never had my visions I would like to believe that I would still love her as infinitely as I do now. Especially if I never had my visions I would not feel so guilty and selfish about loving her as I do now.

When she gave birth I had to walk away for an hour and cry for my son. I refused to touch him for a month because I was so afraid of what I would see once I did.

And now I try not to think of all the pain I will force my darling, precious, foolishly brave son through, the sleeping bundle lying in my arms, as I commit this last vision down to paper before I burn it in the fireplace.

I know that he is coming soon.

He and I both set the dominoes in motion.

I curse and forgive Snape, my arch nemesis. I know I pushed him to it.

I curse Peter and forgive him. He was always the weakest.

I pray for Sirius, my brother, and beg his forgiveness. I failed him.

I beg Remus to forgive me and hold on, just a while longer. He won't be alone forever.

I cry now, for my son. I love him more than he will ever know, or ever experience.

My precious, precious Lily flower, I have no more words to say to you, other than these three: I love you. I love you. i LOVE you.

And finally to, that self-named prick, Voldemort; the lowest depths of my hell are still too good for you.

* * *

James moved silently through his house, careful not to disturb Harry asleep in his arms, and Lily asleep on the couch; he burnt his journal and all the recordings of his visions in the front fireplace and joined Lily on the couch. 

The clock ticked slowly on the mantel.

He set Harry in Lily's arms and woke her.

Lily looked at him with those bright green eyes.

His heart tore in two.

'Lily flower, it's late. Take Harry and go to sleep.'

"James, what time is it?" Lily yawned and stretched.

'Lily flower, it's late, today is nearly tomorrow.'

James' eyes turned pale blue.

"James…"

James blinked his eyes. His heart beat in his ears as he went to the window.

'Lily! Take Harry and run!'

James gathered Lily and Harry in his arms and carried them towards the hallway.

"James I'm not leaving you."

'No Lily, please.' He wanted to break down in tears. 'Please, get Harry out. I don't care about myself as much as I do you two. I will die a happy death as long as I know you two are safe.'

"James." Lily broke into tears. "I can't leave you. I love you."

'Lily… please, save yourself and Harry.'

James kissed Lily on the lips, and Harry on his forehead.

'I love you more than life itself. Now go!'

* * *

James knew his wife would panic and go up the stairs, but he had other matters on his hands now. 

Voldemort tore down the door and James braced himself.

No words were spoken as a flurry of wand activity begun.

In the total space of 30 seconds approximately 61 spells were cast.

James shot at Voldemort 30 of those spells.

Voldemort shot at James 31 of those spells.

The last thing James saw was green light rushing at him. The last thought James thought of was his wife and son. The last thing James smelled was the rancidity of Voldemort's fate, and he smiled.

No but Sirius would have ever understood fully why he was smiling in death.

Even the great Dumbledore believed that it was because James died trying to protect his family.

James did have a martyr complex, but even more than that, he had a sense of revenge.

* * *

I dont know why I wrote this. The thought just came to me one day, 'What if James or Lily knew?' Of course that explains what I feel is the overall gloomy mood of this.

I may write a full fledged fanfic on this later.

This may even be expanded, showing all the relevant character's pov's

Review. Please?


	2. Sirius

Part Two of a vignette series, but I make alot of empty promises. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all its affiliated copyrights.

* * *

I can't help it now I suppose. Everything just got so out of hand. I would gladly lay down my life for my friends if it meant that in the end they would be happy. 

I hope, I pray that there is happiness after death, for them at least, never mind all of the people injured.

I can name seven people off the top of my head, without blinking or even bothering to think, that I hate more than anything else, that are too good, even, for death. They deserve every moment of pain and suffering life can put them through. Never mind the fact that the whole lot of them are sociopaths.

Dear God… I failed.

If I can even survive this hellhole of a prison alive, what guarantee is there that my god-child will ever want to learn the truth, what guarantee is there that Remus would ever believe me. I deserve everything given to me. Every speck of dirt that litters this cell I have to accept into my own soul. The agonizing pain of reliving my worst memories just taints my soul into a deeper darkness of pain, this black and purple bruise, gangrene on all my emotions.

… I would have never thought… that someone who I was willing to call my brother could have betrayed everyone.

I should have known something, should have guess. Of course, it all explains everything: the added losses, the increasing amount of casualties, the foiled assignments.

Peter was a rat after all.

A dirty, filthy, sewer rat.

Ironically it is Peter that can keep my sanity alive. Each and everyday I focus on all evil that he did, I turn that anger in my soul into my private strength. If I can last just one more sec then I can last one more minute, then I can last one more hour, then I can last one more day, then I can last one more month, and then I know that I can last as many years as it takes to escape and seek the proper revenge.

James, my brother. The bond of friendship shared between us is thicker than blood, thicker than time.

As much as I love you brother I can not help but wonder if you knew this all along?

You probably did.

You probably are even tossing and turning in you sleep… somewhere… with the nightmares of me being carted away to the darkest cell in Azkaban.

No matter. I love you brother. I forgive you, even if I cannot forgive myself for being so stupid.

When I opened my big mouth, with my grand idea that Peter and I should switch places of who is secret-keeper you smiled. That secret knowing smile you always smiled when we successfully watched a prank; if only the look in you eyes were not so dead.

What was always attributed to being shy, being quite (when not acting like a boisterous ass) was nothing more than a secret strength.

Brother, I've always admired you. I don't believe I would have the strength to do even half of what you had to do, all by yourself.

You protected us, protected me, protected Lily and Harry, protected Remus, and God-forgive, and I know you even protected Peter, all for as long as you could.

God damn hero complex.

I would have DIED to save you.

I am dying trying to save you.

It is so dark where I am at.

This darkness in my soul, eating away at me, from the inside out. Hate is such a consuming passion.

I'll find a way out, in the end. I promise you that. I swear to you that; on my life and the memories of you, Lily and Harry together.

* * *

Sirius stumbled out of his cell, the cold, dead arms of Dementors dragging him along. The cold stole the strength out of his limbs, out of his resolve and he moaned; this terrible, long empty moan that told of the utmost pain and suffering. 

Sirius' breath came out ragged, and each stumbling step wobbled as he was guided into his transport.

Mad Eye, who had actually trained Sirius and James together for the Aurors, looked at him in this cold dead stare. Sirius cried. The pain of his body was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his soul.

The door of his cell clanged shut and Sirius curled into a little ball; his protective fetal position.

In Azkaban each waking moment was a nightmare.

And such darkness everywhere…

* * *

There it is. Sirius' POV. Hope you all enjoyed it. **Please R + R.**

I'm also sure someone asked, though i think it was in another story, whether I was foreign or not.

Read my profile you idgits. Stupid Americans. shakes head Almost makes me ashamed to be a citizen of the same country as you are. A though im already not ashamed of the president... yeah, not the place for politics...

I'm a Californian girl.


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